


White Christmas

by EmeraldsAndAmethyst



Series: SpideyNova Week Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Marvel TRN123, Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Kinda fluffy TBH, M/M, No idea how I wrote a fic from that prompt without using the word death, Prompt: Death, Sam is a lil' bit sassy, SpideyNovaWeek2.7, and also without killing anyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:16:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3823348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldsAndAmethyst/pseuds/EmeraldsAndAmethyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My entry for the final day of the SpideyNova Prompt Week challenge. Prompt was "Death". I wrangle enough angst with Deadpool, so this is actually kind of fluffy. </p><p>First person perspective from Sam. Spoilers for Season 3 Episode 11 "Nightmare on Christmas". Established relationship between Sam and Peter. Nothing explicit in this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Christmas

Spider-Man didn’t make it back in time to pick up Aunt May’s gift. Not that unusual, what with busting bad guys. No school right now, but instead of an awesome winter break: Fury, of course, doubled down on the training. Yay. Go team classic. Ugh.

 

Anyways, we got the fancy clock for Aunt May, and made sure they wrapped it. Pete said it was for ‘keeping track of the past, present and future.’ He is so **cheesy** sometimes, I swear.

 

But his com is down and he isn’t back, even after picking up Aunt May’s gift. Squirrel Girl should have told him where we were going, and he should have met us before now. So, _problemo_.

 

“I’ll go check the Triskelion. Meet up at Aunt May’s, OK?” I said from where I was hovering above the team with my Nova Force powers.

 

“Yeah, we’ll com you if we find him, ” said Ava, AKA White Tiger, **not** Tigress. Most people don’t make that mistake twice, though. Definitely **don’t** make a joke about kitty having claws. That **also** does not end well... Not that I know that one from experience or anything.

 

“I’m sure it’s nothin’, Bucket Head,” that was Luke, AKA Power Man. He was carrying the pack with all of our gifts, and scouting for Spidey on the way to Aunt May’s.

 

“The eyes of a hungry eagle do not rest,” and that’s Danny, aka Fortune Cookie, whoops, I mean Iron Fist.

 

With that, I’m out, flying through New York toward our new-ish base, the Triskelion.

 

* * *

 

I’d found him. With my helmet I can see him from plenty far away.

 

“ _Das’t_.”

 

He’s at the base of the Triskelion. On his back.

 

“ _Das’t, das’t, das’t_.”

 

He’s not moving. I think I might be talking out loud. Might as well talk to someone. Thing.

 

“Come on, you stupid helmet, give me some readings, or whatever!”

 

I come in hot, literally. Snow melts around me, us, until I cut the glow.

 

“Spidey! Hey, you ok?”

 

The helmet shows me a floating med chart above Pete’s body.

 

“Finally!”

 

He’s…

 

“You idiot!”

 

He’s asleep, apparently. But before the snow melted it looked like...

 

“Did you fall off the Triskellion or something? Wake up, Web Head!”

 

He’s still laying there. No sleepy muttering. I crouch down and lean in.

 

“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!”

 

The med chart starts blinking yellow on some squiggly lines. Not his heart rate, that icon is actually surprisingly universal. After a moment I realize, or the helmet tells me, practically the same thing, really, that it’s his brain waves.

 

“Yo, Webs!” I crouch down and pat his face.

 

“Are you hurt? Webs!”

 

He groans and starts to move. The brain waves stop blinking yellow on the chart.

 

“Ah, yeah. You’re okay.”

 

He looks at me, I mean I think he does. Mask makes it a bit hard to tell.

 

“Uh, why are you hitting me?

 

Ah, whoops, pat was what I **meant** to do. So, I might have slapped him instead, so what? He’s OK.

 

He's **OK**.

 

“And why are you asking if I’m okay at the same time you’re hitting me?”

 

Because you **weren’t**. But I feel myself smiling in relief and, “I dunno, seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

 

“Wait, what time is it? Did I miss Christmas? Is it too late to pick up my gift for Aunt May?” he says, all adorable in his panic. His heart rate is rising. Makes me think of other times, and **no** not like **that**. Much less fun times, with the bad kind of screaming. It’s distracting, I dismiss the chart with a thought and stand up.

 

“Woah. Easy. We picked up your present for Aunt May,” I hold my hand out and pull him to his feet. “Wrapped it, too.”

 

“Where did you guys go?” He makes a confused shrug, then points back at the building. Like I didn’t know where we were supposed be. What a doofus. “ I came back and you were gone.”

 

“We changed plans,” **Obviously** , Webs. But I keep my snark to myself, whatever happened, he’ll tell me later. Maybe. Probably not. But he wasn’t just napping. “Tried to call you, but when you didn’t answer, we went out to look for you.” And yeah, maybe my voice got a bit rough, shut up! “Man, didn’t Squirrel Girl tell you anything?”

 

“Don’t worry about it.”

 

It starts snowing. Big, fat flakes that melt soon as they hit my armor. They take a bit longer to melt off of Spidey’s suit. Not spandex anymore, but still tight. No idea how he can move like that, but you won’t catch **me** complainin’.

 

A church bell rings. Or maybe an art project. I can’t keep track. There’s way too much stuff in New York for one city, sometimes one **planet**.

 

“Look at that,” he says. Apparently about the snow. I look around. Yup. It sure is snowing. Not that I can feel the cold, anyways, but the helmet decides to tell me it’s 48.4F. You would **not** believe how long it took me to get that thing to display **normal** units. But... it actually is pretty nice. Huh.

 

“Like something out of a dream,” like he isn’t from New York, New York and hasn’t seen thirteen kinds of snow every winter he’s been alive. Dork.

 

He’s too still while he’s looking at the snow, though. He’s **always** moving.

 

“You **are** OK. Right, Webs?” I light up and float closer, closing the distance between us. He leans in. Not quite touching me, but touching the cosmic light. It’s kinda weird, and kinda nice, and kinda annoying.

 

“I **said** don’t worry about it, Bucket Head. Just a nightmare, that’s **all**.”

 

We stare at each other. Well, I’m pretty sure we’re staring at each other. Anyways, I can practically feel him glaring at me in that way that he thinks means ‘I gave an order, so obey’ but really means ‘Situation Normal, All Futzed Up’, and sometimes also ‘Not Now Sam’. Though I can usually turn that last one into ‘ **Yes Now Sam** ’ if I try. SNAFU though...

 

I push my power around him, kinda like a hug. But you know, less gay. J.J. Jackass gives him enough grief for saving the freaking city practically **every night** as it is. Not really likely for anyone to get through S.H.I.E.L.D. countermeasures, but…

 

He relaxes. As much as any of us relax suited up.

 

“Whatevs,” I pull my glow back in and float a bit higher.

 

He rocks back and forth on his feet.

 

“Race you to Aunt May’s?” he asks. There’s no way to web off of this island. Sneaky little bug. I drop down and pick him up. His arms wrap around my shoulders, and if he squeezes me just a bit too tight, it’s cool. I may be **just** human, but the Nova helmet keeps me at peak.

 

“You’re on, Web Head!” I take off towards Queens, the long way around if you wanna get technical. It still goes by fast, I mean, come on, I **can** go faster than **light**. He gives me a squeeze, letting me know he’s about to jump.

 

I pull the glow back and he shoots his web towards the nearest tall building and grabs hold. Just before he pulls out of my arms I grab his butt and drop him.

 

“ **NOVA**!”

 

I laugh and barrel roll around his web line.

 

“Last one there ‘s a rotten spider egg!”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone was wondering, the helmet originally displayed temperatures in Kelvins.
> 
> Also "das't" is a swear from the comics, and I think Rocket uses it in the Guardians of the Galaxy movie, too. It is basically that d-word that gets censored sometimes and is not darn but pretty darn close to it. Technically they never say it in this cartoon, but I figured the Guardians would still use it and Sam does spend a lot of time around them.


End file.
